Chapter 61: The Cost of an Inch
Orochimaru's order to retreat echoed through the chaotic streets of Yugakure. The Konoha ninjas, disciplined even in the face of heavy losses, began a fighting withdrawal, covering for each other as they fell back toward the village's main gate.
Orochimaru's golden eyes swept over the assembling shinobi, and a slight frown creased his brow. They had started this assault with just under a hundred—roughly ninety souls. Now, counting the wounded being supported by their comrades, only forty remained. The surprise attack had been a tactical success, but the price had been steep, paid in the blood of Konoha's children. The final piece of the plan—Kuroiwa Tatsuji's forced neutrality—now hung in the balance.
Jiraiya, his own iconic white hair matted with grime and blood, jogged up to his former teammate. "Orochimaru, the old man? Did he agree?"
"I do not know for certain," Orochimaru replied, his voice a low hiss. "But regardless, we cannot remain. The operation is over."
Jiraiya gave a grim nod. He knew they were at their limit.
Internally, Orochimaru was sure. Kuroiwa would agree. The alternative was the complete and utter erasure of his village from the map. Some offers are not refused.
"Hold this position for five minutes!" Orochimaru commanded, his voice cutting through the din of distant combat. "Wait for any stragglers. In five minutes, we depart, no exceptions!"
The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. The Konoha shinobi formed a defensive perimeter at the gate, unleashing a barrage of ninjutsu—fireballs, earth walls, and gusts of wind—to keep the pursuing Cloud and Yugakure forces at bay.
The most visible figure in this rearguard action was Minato Namikaze. A yellow blur of motion, he darted back into the crumbling village again and again, each time emerging with a wounded or cornered Konoha ninja slung over his shoulder. But his incredible speed was faltering, his movements growing slower, his breathing more labored. He was pushing his body far beyond its breaking point on sheer will alone.
As Minato prepared for another desperate dash, a firm hand fell on his shoulder. It was Jiraiya. "That's enough, Minato. You've done more than enough. Don't go back in there."
"Jiraiya-sensei, there's still time!" Minato pleaded, his blue eyes wide with desperation. "Let me go just one more time!"
Jiraiya shook his head, his expression uncharacteristically stern. "No. Your speed has dropped. You haven't noticed, but you're a fraction of a second slower. That fraction will get you killed. And Orochimaru said five minutes. He won't wait a single second more for you." He looked toward the smoke-choked village center, his voice dropping. "Besides... those who could make it out, already have. The ones who haven't..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. The grim truth hung in the air between them. Minato's shoulders slumped, the heroic fervor draining away to be replaced by the heavy weight of reality. He lowered his head and fell silent.
"Time is up," Orochimaru announced, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Retreat now. Lace our escape route with explosive tags. Move!"
The retreat was orderly, a testament to Konoha's training. The lack of aggressive pursuit from the Cloud ninja was telling; the message of their brutal strike on Yugakure had been received. They retreated unmolested back to their fortified base in the Land of Hot Springs, arriving as the sun reached its zenith.
The base became a hive of grim activity. Kagenori, physically wrecked from his chakra overuse, was escorted to his tent to rest. The medics worked tirelessly on the wounded, while those who were merely exhausted collapsed where they stood.
Orochimaru and Jiraiya did not rest. There was no time.
"The tally, Jiraiya?" Orochimaru asked, standing over a map of the region.
Jiraiya's face was somber. "Forty-three total. Only thirty-two are combat-effective in the short term."
Orochimaru's expression tightened. "We need reinforcements. Immediately. A minimum of sixty more shinobi if we are to hold the new front line after we advance."
"Advance so soon?" Jiraiya asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Orochimaru, isn't that too rash? Shouldn't we wait for the reinforcements to arrive first?"
Orochimaru didn't look up from the map. "We advance the moment we are able. If we wait for them to regroup and understand our true numbers, our entire gambit here becomes meaningless. The sacrifices made today will be for nothing." His finger tapped a point on the map. "We must capitalize on their shock."
Jiraiya let out a heavy breath, seeing the cold logic. "I understand. I'll see to the request for reinforcements immediately. How far do you intend to push?"
Orochimaru picked up a Konoha marker and placed it decisively on a new position. "Ten kilometers. At least."
"Ten kilometers?!" Jiraiya exclaimed. "With our numbers? We can't possibly hold that much territory!"
"Precisely," Orochimaru said, his calm unnerving. "Because we cannot hold it, we must push further."
Jiraiya stared, completely lost. "Why push further when you know you can't hold it?"
"It is about creating a buffer," Orochimaru explained, his voice like a patient lecturer's. "Reinforcements from Konoha will not arrive for days. If we advance conservatively, a single, determined push from Kumo will force us all the way back to this very base, undoing all our progress. But if we push far forward now, we can conduct a fighting retreat, trading land for time. By the time we fall back to a defensible position, our reinforcements will have arrived, and we can solidify the line here." He pointed to a location significantly forward of their original front.
Jiraiya's eyes widened as the brutal, brilliant strategy clicked into place. "Orochimaru... you really are something else. If you had been in command here from the start, we might not have been in such a dire position."
"It is not a possibility, Jiraiya. It is a certainty," Orochimaru stated bluntly. "You are too conservative. War is like two wild beasts locked in combat. The moment one shows weakness, the other will sink its fangs in and never let go."
Jiraiya slumped into a chair, the weight of command pressing down on him. "I don't want to be conservative. But being as recklessly aggressive as you... it's not in my nature." He changed the subject, seeking a respite from the tactical discussion. "What's the situation on Konoha's other fronts?"
"The fronts against Iwa and Suna are stable, for now," Orochimaru reported. "The primary concern is that Kiri appears to be mobilizing to join the fray. Beyond that, the Cloud presence here in the Land of Hot Springs was becoming untenable, which is why the Hokage dispatched me."
Jiraiya sighed, a deep, weary sound. "It's only been a few years since the last great war ended. Must we always do this? Wouldn't it be better if the world could just live in peace?"
Orochimaru's snake-like eyes slid toward his old friend. "You are still so naive, Jiraiya."
A tired smile touched Jiraiya's lips. "Maybe. But sometimes, a little naivete is necessary. It's exhausting to see the world as clearly as you do." He paused, then asked, "How is your disciple? Aside from carrying myself and a wounded Nawaki during the last war, I don't think I've ever seen you carry anyone on your back before. It was always Chiyu."
At the mention of Nawaki, a name from a painful past, Orochimaru's pupils contracted for a fleeting instant. His response, when it came, was perfectly level. "Kagenori sustained minor injuries and severe chakra exhaustion. It is nothing serious." The words were dismissive, but the action of carrying the boy spoke volumes the Sannin would never voice aloud.